Fifty Shades of Green - Erotica for the physically ill
by Project H
Summary: Anastasia and Christian are a little under the weather, but that won't stop them from surrendering to their throbbing sexual urges and nauseating illnesses.


Anastasia Steele lay out on her bed. Through the door came Christian Grey, billionaire playboy, with his bedroom eyes wide in wonder and mild conjunctivitis. Anastasia had a headache, but would not let it prevent the night's natural course of events from taking place. Her face became flush, only partly due to her fever, and she was pleased that she chose tonight as the night she didn't take her sleeping pills. Christian arousingly limped to the bed and gave a deep wheeze of excitement.

He sensually removed his clothes and undressed his leg wound. The gauze fell away, as did any of Anastasia's doubt that there was anything she wanted more in life than to be held within his gangrenous arms. As Christian looked over her partly-jaundiced body; the only part of him that moved more than his nether-regions was the maggoty hole that was now exposed to airborne bacteria.

Christian began to gag and retch, producing phlegm - nature's most effective lubricant. Anastasia disregarded her own sore throat, fully intending it to be sorer when they were done. She was positively weak at the knees with arthritis, and dropped to the floor in front of him quicker than she does after a spell of vertigo.

Her fingers ran along his prosthetic leg, unconcerned by a doctor's warning that the stump may still contain traces of leprosy. His member rose so quickly it got the bends. It reached a level of swelling that normally requires contact with poison ivy. Anastasia's wetness began to dampen the dry, crusty skin of her inner thighs, but she hoped Christian wouldn't slip in the puddle and fracture a vertebra. Not again.

She took his length in a manner that she had practiced weekly on tongue-depressors, and placed it inside her mouth. She moved backwards and forwards, as if inducing vomiting, although on this occasion she was inducing pleasure. "Take me! Take me now!" He yelled, as he pointed at a picture of the nearest hospital. But his cries were drowned out by her own moans of satisfaction, and the sudden bout of tinnitus that had struck.

Her inner-mouth ulcer usually required an application of calamine lotion, but for tonight she had found a far tastier alternative. His essence flowed down her throat like warm chamomile tea, reminding her of a simpler time when her only troubles in the world were finding the perfect man, and tonsillitis. Christian didn't even mind that her teeth were chattering the whole time. Anastasia moved up his body with the eagerness of a starved tapeworm. She nestled into his chest, feeling as though she could almost be put to sleep by his smooth heartbeat and dry, hacking cough.

Christian decided to return the favour, firstly by lending her an anti-motion sickness pill, and secondly by lowering himself until his swollen lips were level with the peaks of her varicose veins. He went after her like a dog going for a bone, but he had no intention of burying her to enjoy later. His tongue reached out and pressed firmly against her stitches. She moaned with motion sickness (she hadn't yet taken the pill) and felt him enter her, as if his bloodied gums were the combination to her high-security safe of arousal. Excitement surged through her body as her toes curled up around the tinea.

Anastasia raised her legs, in a pose that usually required stirrups, and allowed him to examine the area thoroughly. She hoped that while he was driving her wild with desire, he would also keep a lookout for any newly-formed cysts. Christian's hand reached up her body and took hold of something soft and round. Moving this colostomy bag aside, his fingers navigated the chicken pox to find the bump of her nipple. This took him several minutes of effort, and consultation with a chart of female anatomy. As he began to slowly massage the area, he applied Vicks Vaporub to his fingers, knowing he was bringing her both unquenchable sexual desire and clear nasal passages. Anastasia thought about how long it had been since she had been touched by something other than lice.

"The doctor will see you now," said Christian, pointing a hangnail at his dysfunctional erectile. Anastasia smiled. This was likely to be a far more exciting clinical visit than her last treatment for tuberculosis. She just hoped her insurance would cover the bill. Her fingers slipped down his navel and toyed with the sack of small lumps between his legs; the majority of which were not cancerous growths. Being exposed to the air for so long had caused her lips to become chapped, although the ones on her face remained fine.

She arched her back, having removed the brace, and leant her body into his. "The doctor is in," Christian replied, as he began to take her core temperature with his own personal thermometer. As Anastasia shivered from her pneumonia, she thanked god Christian was here to keep the inside of her lady-cave warm with his fleshy scarf. And a generous second serving of his home-made chicken soup. She didn't even mind that it was giving her a herniated uterus. And he didn't mind that it was re-splintering his urethra.

Their bodies became fused as one, as if they were the leg bones of a child who was rapidly growing and maturing, with their love being the marrow and their unbridled passion being the minor fracture that goes untreated and turns into a serious break. Only her endocratic parasites had been this deep within Anastasia. Christian rolled onto his back and hoisted her in the air above him, as her body briefly became as elevated as her liver enzymes. Her stomach heaved in contentment and emptied itself so as to make room for the love that was being injected into her like penicillin.

Christian wiped the affection from his eyes and hair and smiled up at her with rotten teeth. This was all his cholesterol-clogged heart had ever wanted. The girl of his dreams, and fever-induced hallucinations, was all his. And the feeling was mutual, as was his syphilis due to the moment they had just shared. Christian's elbows dislocated as Anastasia dropped down onto him. As she lay in the puddle of pus on his unmoving chest, the immense blood-flow to his crotch having caused him several heart attacks, she realised that for the first time since she briefly died during an appendectomy, she was at peace. Christian's rigor mortis briefly set in to afford her one final hug, before Anastasia rolled off the hospital bed and walked back to her ward. She wasn't young enough, but if she had been qualified for make-a-wish, it would have just been granted.


End file.
